THE NORTHERN REGIONS OF AÏR: PART II
I remained the next day in Iferouan collecting a few specimens of
doves, inhabiting the palm trees, which proved to be _Streptopelia
turtur hoggara_, a rare and beautiful soft-coloured richly mottled
dove which I found in no other locality in Aïr. This was the
first and only good find during my northern journey, throughout
which birds remained remarkably scarce. I think, after all, birds
like the society of mankind; at any rate, desolate, man-forsaken
northern Aïr held very few birds indeed in comparison with inhabited
districts in the south. Mankind cultivate seed crops, keep herds of
cattle, throw out debris, live where water is to be found, and have
a score or more habits, each of which unconsciously, in some way,
is of benefit to one or other of the feathered tribe.
I did not intend to return to Timia by the route I had come, but
to journey south-west to Aguellal, the most western mountain range
in Aïr of any importance, and thence cut back eastward by way of
the ancient town of Assodé.
Before setting out, an unexpected difficulty cropped up in that,
wilfully or truthfully, Homa, the native who had been guide to
Iferouan, declared that he did not know the way to Aguellal. I had
made my plans quite clear before leaving Timia, and was considerably
annoyed to find that I had been misled as to the ability of the
guide. I called the goumiers, and asked each one if he knew the
country, but received a negative reply from all, which, so far as
I could judge, was true, although by this time I knew something of
Tuareg shortcomings, and was aware that the whole business might be
a ruse to put me off returning by a circuitous and longer route. In
any case, I nipped any indecision, which they may have wished to
encourage, in the bud, by declaring emphatically that I had a good
_Takarda_ (map), and would lead the way to Aguellal, at the same
time knowing the men would have to accompany me unless they wished
to greatly displease their officer at Agades.
My map showed a track from Iferouan to Aguellal, and the evening
before starting I sent the chief goumier and Homa out to search for
it west of the village. They came back at dark with the encouraging
news that they had found a track out on the stony plain leading
westward.
Hence at daybreak on 15th June we set out from Iferouan in the
direction of Aguellal. The track soon proved to be very vague, so
that I had to refer frequently to map and compass before Aguellal
mountain range loomed in sight, a procedure which astonished and
impressed the natives, who had for days past been vastly interested
in the magic sheet of paper which told me so much about a land
which they were aware I had never seen before. From time to time
we picked up the old track, usually on stony ground where sand had
not drifted, and thus reassured we kept on a true course.
The country between Iferouan and Aguellal is in general aspect
plain-like and expansive and very barren. Low rugged hills lie west
and south of Iferouan, in country of alternating stretches of light
gravel and sand in slight hollows and valleys, and darker gravel and
rock on the rounded ridges and higher lands. When more than midway
on our journey, we crossed an extensive sandy plain on its western
margin, and there the old track was completely obliterated by weather
and drifting sand, and I noticed the leading camel-man was following,
at times, the small particles of bleached camel-litter of animals
that had long ago passed this way—in the end, even those slight
signs, that would escape unpractised eyes, were lost.
No trees were seen to-day, except an occasional low weed-like,
ill-nourished bush and a few scattered acacias at our night camp,
which was chosen in the Aniogaran valley bed (altitude, 2,200 ft.),
at which time we were in full view of the northern slopes of rugged
Aguellal.
Dr. Barth, on entering the Aïr mountains from the north in 1850,
described the approach to Aguellal as “a picturesque wilderness,”
where “majestic mountains and detached peaks towered over the
landscape.”
Unlike other localities throughout to-day’s journey, there was
no sign of recent rainfall, and the land lay terribly parched,
and altogether the most drear and barren area we had entered since
leaving Timia.
The undulating fairly level type of country was of the type favoured
by Dorcas Gazelles, and a number of them were seen to-day, and an
animal shot for food.
I am now living principally on buck-meat and dried dates bought
in Timia, for my European stores, which I have had to draw on
heavily ever since leaving the inhabited regions of Damergou, are
almost finished. The articles I miss most of all, and which ran out
about a month ago, are sugar and tobacco; especially the latter,
which can be a wonderful solace when the palate grows listless on
a constant diet of freshly killed meat.
Resuming the journey on the following day, we changed our course
westward and then southward, to swing round the north-west spur of
the Aguellal range, over very rough foothills, through which an old
mountain track led us in toward Aguellal village, which lay hidden
round the corner of the spur, until we came suddenly in sight of
it at close range.
We camped in Aguellal two hours after setting out. Aguellal village
(altitude, 2,100 ft.) is beneath the western slope of the strange
dark mountains of the same name—magnificent ranges in rugged
contour, and of considerable height— while westward from the
deserted village, or rather, villages, for there are four separate
groups of dwellings in different localities, stretches a wide
sandy valley, with green banks of low bush comprised chiefly of
“Abisgee” and acacia. There are no date palms at Aguellal and
no old signs of grain cultivation; indeed, I doubt if the barren
stony ground would permit of cultivation. So that natives in the
past apparently gave their attention entirely to maintaining herds
of goats and camels, though, in general, Aguellal mountain has
little attractive fertility round its base, and is surrounded by
country of more barren appearance than the more central ranges,[10]
which have a certain fertility in some of the valleys in their
immediate surroundings.
The deserted huts in the villages are stone-built and of reddish
colour, and many contained relics of native furniture and utensils,
such as wooden stools, mortar bowls, grass mats, grass-made baskets
and dishes, and earthenware water-jars. In a number of dwellings jars
were found built into the inside walls, and the goumiers informed
me that those were customarily used by natives as hiding-places
for money.
There is a deep well at Aguellal in the centre of the principal
village.
Accompanied by Atagoom and Saidi, I left camp not long after midday,
and proceeded to climb into Aguellal mountains, an undertaking
which proved to be a strenuous one, and we did not get back to
camp until after dark. Mountain climbing in intense heat is not
mountain climbing under ideal conditions, and we put in an afternoon
of extreme exertion, for Aguellal slopes are very steep, almost
cliff-like in their upper reaches, and of a rugged composition
which rendered them quite impassable in places. We succeeded,
before receding daylight warned us to begin descent, in climbing
to a summit which registered 3,100 ft., 1,000 ft. above Aguellal
village, which is a very considerable distance away from the actual
mountain base. Other peaks were, at that altitude, above us north
and south-west, which appeared almost inaccessible without the aid
of ropes, and I judged they might have additional height of 600 to
800 ft. (On one map which I possess there is an altitude reading
on the east side of the range of 3,609 ft.)
Fresh tracks of wild sheep were numerous in the mountain.
_17th June._—Left Aguellal at daybreak, travelling first south-west
to avoid the southern spur of Aguellal, and thereafter swinging
round into the south-east with the intention of cutting in to the
broad Agoras valley, and thence continuing up the river course to
Assodé. The journey to-day was the hardest performed since leaving
Timia, being throughout over rocky, irregular lowland, which offered
bad foothold for the camels and entailed much variance of direction
to avoid impassable rocks and gully channels. Throughout the day
there were many individual hills in the landscape. About mid-journey
a long time was spent in making our way through the strange pass
that is between the large detached hills of Matalgha and Marasset—a
much greater time and distance than the map would lead one to expect.
Marasset is prominent, and can be identified a long way off. It
has one peak in particular, which rises high above all else and
terminates in twin cone-shaped towers.
[Illustration: IN AGUELLAL MOUNTAINS AT 3,100 FEET.]
[Illustration: WE FIND A PRECIOUS POOL OF WATER S.E. OF AGUELLAL,
AÏR.]
Beyond Marasset we found a pool of fresh rainwater, which brought
forth a general exclamation of pleasure, while halt was made to
slack our immediate thirst and fill all our water-skins. Throughout
this journey in northern Aïr it has been, excepting on one other
occasion, our lot to subsist on the stagnant, foul-tasted waters
obtained from old decayed village wells which have not been in use
for some years.
We camped about 4 p.m. at a small village named Ebazouera, near to
the edge of the expansive Agoras valley; a tiny village containing a
few ruins and three standing stone huts. There was no well. Altitude,
2,300 ft.
_18th June._—About two hours after setting out in the early
morning we passed out of rocky land and intersected the Agoras river,
which was then followed upstream until Assodé was reached about 2
p.m. The river-bed of sand is very wide, with shallow banks almost
barren of trees. It was necessary for me to act as guide, as on
the previous days; moreover, the natives now had implicit faith
in my magic _Takarda_ (map). One might think that doubt should
not arise travelling in a wide river-bed, nevertheless it does;
broad channels open up in the shores, outlets of other streams
join into the Agoras, and more than once the question arises:
which shall be followed of two broad ways?—which seem, at their
junction, to both lead much in the same direction. However, when
nearing Assodé, one or two of the goumiers, and the guide Homa,
began to find landmarks with which they were familiar, and I soon
learned that I need have no further concern as to our whereabouts,
as the way back to Timia was henceforth known to the natives.
I may say that the French map of Aïr, resultant from the Cortier
Geographical Mission, which had been kindly given to me at Agades,
proved of the utmost service to me throughout my travels in Aïr,
and is an excellent and accurate map if one follows it on broadly
conceived lines. But one must form conception of proportion very
expansively, for the scale (and, perhaps, the extent of geographical
data) does not permit the inclusion of the abundant detail which this
rugged mountain-land possesses. For instance, the chief mountain
ranges and a great many hills and rivers are indicated, but there
are hundreds, yea, perhaps, thousands, of individual hills and many
streams which are not included on the map.
The village or town of Assodé (altitude, 2,475 ft.) is the largest
I came across in Aïr north of Agades. It is strangely situated
in a small stony plateau-basin, behind high rocky banks on the
north side of the Agoras river, in country more hilly than that
which borders the river further west. The basin, wherein lies the
village, is completely surrounded with natural ramparts of small
hills, and therefore presents the appearance of a place capable
of strong defence in time of war. The space within the hills is in
places crowded with stone huts, while, where huts do not now stand,
the area is a rubbish heap of ruins where dwellings have fallen,
and undoubtedly Assodé at one time was a place of considerable
importance.
Among the ruins I found the ancient mosque of Assodé, the existence
of which is known to every Tuareg in Aïr, and no doubt it holds a
prominent place in Mohammedan religious history. The mosque stands,
without any notable prominence, except in ground area, on the crown
of a rising knoll in the eastern quarter of the village, with the
front and tower ruins facing the north-west; possibly so that the
main body of the prayer court and devotion cells face eastward
toward the rising sun. The mosque is altogether in a sad state of
ruin: roofs in places collapsed, lintels and door jambs fallen,
and the tower (apparently never built to any great height) but a
pile of fallen stones. Roughly, the mosque has a ground area of
135 ft. length and 55 ft. breadth, which longitudinally is divided
into two equal sections: an indoor place of prayer and an outdoor
place of prayer. The indoor section, which is the eastern half,
is made up of five long dark passage-like aisles, varying from 5
ft. to 6 ft. wide, with stone walls, about 2 ft. thick, which are
honeycombed with low door openings 4 ft. high, while the ceilings
are only 7 ft. to 8 ft. high, constructed with timbers carrying
an earth and gravel roof. The outdoor section is simply an open
courtyard, surrounded by a stone wall and levelled off a few steps
above the ground level outside. On the west of this there is a wing,
21 ft. by 78 ft., on a lower level containing a double row of aisles:
possibly a special department for the devotions of priests. I found
in the aisles great piles of Mohammedan literature, most beautifully
penned, and regretted I could not bear it away with me so that it
might be searched for ancient records relating to the history of the
land. (Later I informed the French authorities of this literature,
and it is possible that an effort will be made to have it brought
back and preserved and thoroughly examined.)
There are monastic quarters well apart from the mosque and farther
east, and they still have outline which shows that they were more
extensive than any of the hut dwellings at present standing, which
are small, square, single-room affairs.
All the ancient huts of the age of the mosque are completely in
ruins and but piles of building stones, so that one cannot judge
the shape which they possessed, but it is highly probable that they
were of the same style as those at present standing.
There are no date palms at Assodé, but numerous signs that the
inhabitants kept goats and camels.
_19th June._—We left Assodé an hour and a half before daylight,
and, on account of the chapter of incidents about to be related,
travelled without halt till 5 p.m.
Leaving Assodé, we headed south-east up the Agoras river, until we
intersected our outward route to Iferouan at the point where we had
camped ten days before at the junction of the Teguednu and Asselar
rivers, at which time the large conspicuous mountain named Goundai,
which I remarked on when outward bound, was again in view.
It was at this point that tremendous excitement was suddenly aroused
among the goumiers in finding fresh tracks of camels in the sand
of the river-bed of robbers, who, coming from the north-east, had
cut into our outward tracks and had gone southward following them.
High exclamations and intense excitement was rife among the goumiers
for some minutes, while rifles were unslung and locks looked to
and magazines fully charged, the while the tracks in the sand were
being examined and read. There were, the goumiers decided, twelve
camels, and their riders were undoubtedly robbers, but they were
in considerable doubt as to whether they had come from Tibesti
or the Ahaggar mountains, and such signs as they picked up—an
end of cord, a small piece of cotton garb, and a few dried dates;
articles all eagerly examined—failed to prove conclusively whether
the band were Tébu or Hogar natives.
I had intended to camp at Tiggeur for the day, but now decided to
rapidly follow the tracks of the robbers in the hope of arriving
in time to aid the natives of Timia, if aid were needed. So we
hurried on, following the course of a deep ravine; and all the
time the tracks in the sand were being keenly read by the excited
goumiers. In time, some miles from Timia, we came to where the
robbers had happened on a herd of goats tended by a woman. Here it
was noted in the sand that they had spurred their camels to rush
forward so that they might catch and seize the woman, and signs of
struggle were found below an acacia tree, where they had effected
her capture. Thereafter they had driven the goats before them along
the ravine until a side-branch was reached, and we traced where
one man had turned up this on foot and gone off eastward with the
captured herd, while the main band had continued in towards Timia,
led by the woman they had taken prisoner, and whose sandal-prints
could be traced in the sand. (It was presumed that the goats would be
driven to some rendezvous where the band would meet later; but this
proved wrong conjecture, for it was afterwards found that they had
abandoned the goats.) Again, farther on, we traced in the sand where
all the robbers had dismounted and advanced stealthily to where some
donkeys were grazing; no doubt with the purpose of catching anyone
who might be in attendance so that he or she would not escape to
give the alarm in Timia. But there was no sign of an additional
prisoner having been taken, and the robbers had continued onward,
taking the donkeys with them for a short distance, and then had
turned them aside up a quiet gulley and left them there.
At last, having left the ravine to ascend over a stony stretch
of land and then descend into Timia valley, we came upon the
place—just before the river bends toward the village, and in
shelter of a jutting hill-spur—where, in the dusk, the robbers
had made camp. They had lain beside their camels and reposed, and
had apparently partaken of little food beyond dried dates, as they
had not dared to light fires. From this camping-place, where they
waited the advent of dawn, we traced the naked footprints of two
of the robbers who, in the dark, had crept stealthily in to Timia
to reconnoitre.
In a few minutes more we were on the outskirts of Timia, which
seemed strangely deserted and silent. However, we soon espied a
single armed man dodging about in a date grove, and hailed him that
we were friends, whereupon he and two others came out to join us,
and soon the hurried tale of the adventures of the day was being
poured into the ears of my excited goumiers.
To begin with: we were too late! Timia had been attacked and entered,
and the robbers had left, heading south, about four hours ago. The
disjointed story of the natives pieced together something in this
form: The robbers had attacked Timia at dawn to-day, trying to
terrorise the place. But the inhabitants had had warning the evening
before, brought in by a woman, who had been with the donkeys, which
the robbers had come across, and who had fled undetected some little
time before the bandits had reached the animals. So that the Timia
natives (who were unfortunately without the leadership of their
chief Fougda: reputed to be an able man in circumstances of danger)
were already secreted among the rocks in the gorge at dawn awaiting
the robbers. Also they had wisely sent a man to where their camels
were grazing south-west of Timia, with instructions that they were
to be driven with all haste on to the Baguezan plateau (an order
which events proved was not explicitly obeyed). Therefore, when
the robbers advanced, they found the natives waiting for them, and,
apparently, regular guerilla warfare ensued which lasted for some
hours. It would appear that the Timia natives were foolish, and
blazed off their ammunition at ineffective range; for, apparently,
they did not hit a single robber, while they completely exhausted
their scant supplies of ammunition. On the other hand the robbers
were very daring and wily in attack and better marksmen, also they
had modern rifles and plenty of ammunition (later I picked up a
full clasp—6 rounds— of ·303 Italian ammunition and some empty
cases of Turkish ammunition of about ·44 calibre).
About noon the village was completely at the mercy of the robbers,
and they entered where they willed. But, be it said to their credit,
they made no attempt to wreak vengeance on the people or their
dwellings, and they carried off neither quantities of food nor goats
nor women. Their sole purpose was to steal camels, and as none were
in the village or near by, they forthwith forced the old headman,
whom they had captured, to guide them out of the village and take
them to where the camels were to be found.
This was as far as their story went. At the time we arrived in
Timia the robbers were somewhere to the south, searching for the
camels belonging to the natives.
I was in a quandary, for I felt sure the robbers could yet be
caught, yet if I led the goumiers against the robbers without real
personal cause and failed to rout them, or suffered heavy casualties,
I might be asked awkward questions by the French authorities and
be asked to leave the country; which would be disastrous to the
interests of the expedition. Therefore, after due consideration of
my position as a civilian in a foreign land, which barred me from
pursuing the enemy with no other purpose than to force a fight,
I called the chief goumier and Atagoom, and told them that I was
certain that if their captain at Agades knew they were close to
robbers, he would expect them to follow them up, while, if they did
not, he would be sure to be vastly displeased—this was, I felt,
as far as I could go in the matter. And my reasoning bore fruit,
for the goumiers agreed to follow the robbers, reinforced by five
armed natives of Timia, and though both men and beasts were terribly
tired, having travelled since 4.30 in the morning, they set out to
follow the tracks of the robbers just as it was growing dusk.
As soon as I had got them away, I sent the half-dozen unarmed men
remaining in Timia to look for wounded, and before retiring to rest
dressed, as best I could, with warm water and bandages, three bad
cases which they brought in: one of whom I did not expect to live.
The old headman wearily returned to Timia at night, leaning heavily
on his staff and barely able to walk, for, besides his trying
experiences in the hands of the robbers, he was slightly wounded
in the chin and right knee. The robbers had released him when they
had sighted the camels they sought. He said the robbers were Hogar,
and the band comprised twelve camels (as the goumiers had accurately
read from the mingled tracks in the sand), fourteen men, and thirteen
rifles. (Those robbers sometimes mount two men on one camel.)
_Timia, 20th June._—Spent an uneventful night alone: no further
disturbance.
This morning a few natives begin to appear out of hiding and come
to my camping-place to express their gladness that I have returned
to protect them. (For they have great faith in the powers of any
white man.) They are still in a state of panic, and most of the
women and children remain hidden among the rocks in the mountain
sides afraid to come in, especially as they fear a second band
which the robbers declared would follow them in a day or two;
a declaration which proved without truth, and circulated by the
robbers solely to intimidate the populace and prevent the men of
Timia from leaving the neighbourhood to follow them. For my own
part I remain camped in the open by the edge of the dry river-bed,
in spite of remonstrance from the old headman, who wanted me also
to hide in the hills; and before the end of the day my apparent
indifference had helped to restore native confidence.
During the day five more wounded were brought in to be attended to,
in addition to the three placed in my charge last evening: one of
whom had died during the night.
The goumiers returned late to-night, reporting they had not caught
up the robbers, who had succeeded in capturing (about midway
between Timia and Baguezan plateau) and driving off thirty-two
camels. The native guarding the camels, who had unfortunately
dallied in executing the order to drive the camels rapidly away into
Baguezan, had been caught by the robbers and disrobed of everything
he possessed except a leather loincloth.
_21st June._—I now proposed to remain and collect at Timia for
some time; therefore, as arranged, I sent off news to Agades of my
safe return from northern Aïr, at the same time returning all the
goumiers, excepting the two worthies Atagoom and Saidi.
Two of my patients passed away overnight, both with very bad internal
wounds. Three have now succumbed to wounds out of the eight brought
in. The remainder are all likely to recover.
_22nd June._—Quiet day skinning, and Timia now rapidly returning
to a normal state. This morning witnessed the arrival of many of the
fugitive population from hiding in the mountains. They came in twos
or threes and small parties: some men, with staves and bundles on
their shoulders; but mostly women, liberally clad, for warmth at
night, in cotton clothing, and carrying rolled-up grass mats upon
which they had slept among the rocks. Some of the women also drove
in goats before them.
Further information with regard to the robbers was revealed to me
to-day by the old headman, who is now recovering from his wounds. It
appears that on the way to Timia the robbers came upon and caught one
of the “wild” women from Tamgak mountain which we had run across
north of Egouloulof, and had questioned her closely as to whom it was
who had passed northward and left behind the many camel tracks. She
informed them there was a white man and many armed natives, who
had gone to Iferouan; whereupon they showed signs of uneasiness,
and threw the woman aside, while exclaiming denunciations on our
heads, and, among themselves, saying that they must now hasten on
their way to Timia, lest we return on their heels or intercept them
on their way north.
It is also now known definitely that the robber band were Hogar
natives, and came from Janet, a short distance south-west of Ghat,
in the territory of the Asger (Asdjer, Azkar), approximately some
500 miles north of Timia, and were led by a famous and much-feared
robber chief named Chebickee. The old headman, who, of course, had
ample opportunity to see everything while captive, says the band
were mounted on exceptionally fine camels, as I and the goumiers
had already surmised from the large footprints in the sand.
I remained on in Timia while the wounded recovered and the little
village among the mountains gradually settled down to wonted
peacefulness.